


Seven Year Ache

by adaille



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Charlie Ships It, Dean Being an Idiot, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentioned Dean/Others - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Public Sex, Sam Ships It, Top Castiel, everyone ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 10:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15265407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaille/pseuds/adaille
Summary: Seven years ago, Dean and Castiel became roommates. Three years ago, they brought sex into their friendship, and Dean stopped looking for anything outside their arrangement. But now, Charlie’s teasing made Dean realize people view Cas as more than his friend, and he starts back looking for that special someone to spend the rest of his life with.He didn’t have to look as hard as he thought.###Suddenly uncomfortable, he swiveled on his chair to watch Cas sing.And oh, did Cas sing. The music for Seven Year Ache started pumping from the speakers, and Cas never even looked at the word prompts, his eyes boring into Dean’s soul from across the room. Dean barely blinked, barely breathed.Cas was angry, so angry, and he sang like a storm, his body and voice mesmerizing to the point Dean almost didn’t hear the lyrics, but then...the lyrics. Shit.





	Seven Year Ache

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Destiel Smut Bingo square for “Keep your voice down”, and my Dean and Cas Bingo square for Friends with Benefits. I’ve had the image in my mind for a while of Castiel singing Seven Year Ache angrily at Dean during karaoke night, and it seemed like a good time to get it out on paper.
> 
> Thank you to Krystal_Atems_Girl and firefly124 from the Profound Bond Discord server for reading through this fic before I posted it.
> 
> The lyrics to Seven Year Ache are at the end after the ###.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I don’t know where Charlie gets off, saying shit like that.” Dean tilted his beer back, sloshing some into his mouth.

Sam set his own drink down on the table. “Is this about her saying you and Cas were ‘so married’ at lunch? You know you can’t stay mad at her. You never do.”

“Dude, Cas and I are _friends_.”

“She was joking around, Dean. Cas just made it too easy, with the whole eyebrow thing he does to you and telling you not to come knocking on his door bothering him later. She knows tha—”

Dean barely paid attention to Sam’s reassurances. Charlie was wrong—him and Cas, they weren’t ‘getting serious’ or acting ‘so married’. Why couldn’t she see that? “It’s not like I _meant_ to stop sleeping with other people. It just...happened.”

Sam coughed, shifting to face Dean more directly. “Um, ‘other’ people? Are you and Cas—” He waved a hand in the air.

 _Shit._ Charlie and Garth had put two-and-two together a long time ago, and he’d assumed Sam had, too. _Good job outing your...whatever this is, Dean._ “Um, sort of?”

“How are you ‘sort of’ sleeping with Cas? Fuck, forget that, how did I miss when you two started dating? I mean, it’s obvious now that you say it, but—”

“Sammy, no, damn. We aren’t dating. It’s just a friends with benefits thing.” He tilted his bottle again, draining the rest of it in one go.

Sam scrunched his face into an expression that was equal parts _really, Dean?_ and _what is wrong with you, Dean_?

Time to get a refill so he didn’t have to look at that shit. “You want another beer?”

“Feel like I need something stronger before we talk about this, but yeah, sure.”

“Nothing to talk about. I asked Cas one day if he wanted to, you know, do the whole platonic sex thing—granted I was joking around—and he said, yeah, it was ‘logical’ and that’s that.” It hadn’t been quite so straightforward, but he had no intention of telling his little brother that. He’d been awkward and terrified the day after, the first few times, but once he realized Cas had no need or desire to talk about ‘it’ when ‘it’ wasn’t actively happening, he’d relaxed.

“Logical?” Sam’s face squinched harder.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re both busy, why hunt for hours only to strike out or find someone who sucks in bed when you’ve got a tiger in the sack already on call?”

“Ew, gross, Dean. Seriously? Don’t ever call yourself that around me again. Please.”

Dean shoved his head behind the fridge door to cool the heat flushing the tops of his ears. He’d actually been talking about Cas. He had to watch these slip-ups, or Sam would be on his case harder than Charlie.

Sure, Dean probably would’ve been cocky enough to rank himself in the upper tier in his college days, but Cas...Cas was _good_. Whenever his switch flipped from roommate to lover, he was hard edges and dominance and he’d start pressing each of Dean’s buttons and not let up until Dean was sobbing for Cas to stop because he just couldn’t stand another orgasm. Dean had never even heard of edging or thought of playing with overstimulation until Cas.

He shifted his weight, settling the tightness in the front of his jeans before closing the fridge and bringing the next round back to their table.

“Dean, how long has it been?”

Fuck, Sammy really did want to do this, right now. “I mean, um, we started doing it right after college? Like, in college it was fine, I could get laid easy, too easy,” he huffed a laugh. “It used to piss Cas off, you know? I was always kicking him outta our room so I could score, even freshman year. But you know, senior year there was Lisa, and I didn’t really want to deal with the whole scene for a bit after that, and then we graduated, and got jobs, and neither of us had that kinda time. And sending Cas off to crash in the dorm common area was one thing, but with us sharing an apartment, it’s harder, you know?”

Sam stared at him, then shook his head, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. “I meant since you stopped sleeping with anyone but your best friend. Who you’ve also lived with for the past seven years. And who you do everything with, including two-plus meals a day and vacations.”

 _Oh. Um._ “A-a couple of...years?” Maybe...longer than that? Shit.

“Dude. Seriously. You need to wake up. You can’t expect people to not think you two are getting serious, when you live with him and you sleep with him—only him—and _you are getting ser_ —”

“Shit, you’re right.”

“I...am?”

“Yeah.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. How had he not seen this before? He should’ve talked to Sam sooner. “Yeah, I need to dust off the ol’ cell phone, huh? I let this go way too far. Fuck. You’re right. Sleeping with just him, it’s causing problems now. Like it was fine at first, but I need to get back out there before people start to talk.”

“Dean, I feel like we’re having two very different conversations here. I’m trying to tell you—”

“Dude, I don’t agree with you every day, just take the win.”

“Dean, talk to Cas before you do anything stupid, please?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

#

“Do you want to cook that lasagna tonight?” Cas shuffled across their galley kitchen to the coffee maker, his hand lingering against Dean’s lower back as he squeezed past to pour himself a cup. “I can get more cheese while I’m out today. Or would you rather order in?”

Dean didn’t answer at first, watching as Cas lifted the mug away from his mouth, pulling a face at the sharpness. Why he tasted his coffee black every single time when he hated the flavor was beyond Dean, but it was...cute. In the way that people found all their friends’ idiosyncrasies cute. And endearing. And—

“Dean?”

Dean flipped a pancake onto Castiel’s stack, added a pad of butter to the top, and poured more batter on the skillet. “Probably should order in. I’m gonna be out.”

“Out? With Charlie? Or Sam?”

“With Lisa. Got a date.”

Cas dropped the powdered creamer, and it struck the edge of the counter on the way down, but luckily kept its lid on.

“Fuck, Cas, give me that. Go sit down. You’re useless before you get two cups in you.”

Cas squinted irritably at him, but surrendered his mug with a grumble. “Tastes better when you do it, anyway.”

“Sammy, is that you?”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit. Pancakes’ll be ready in a minute.”

Silence irritated Dean, but Cas broke it for him, same as he always did, his voice muffled slightly by the wall between them. “Did you run into her this week?”

“No, I called her.”

Cas was silent for almost a minute, then just asked _why_.

“Dude, you don’t have to sound so affronted. Our break-up wasn’t that bad.”

“She said you were a bad influence on her child.”

Yeah, that had stung. “I’ve grown up a bit, you know? She’s gonna give me another chance. Dinner and a movie. We had a good thing going, at one time.”

“For six months, in college. That was over three years ago. Dean—”

“Thought you’d be happy I was getting back on the horse again.” He carried the plates to the table, then made another round trip to get the mugs.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt like you were before, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’ll be fine, alright? Charlie just made me realize some things with the whole ‘married’ comment. Not getting any younger, you know? Hey, what’s wrong, you not hungry? I can make something else, if you didn’t want panca—where are you going? Cas?”

#

Dean tried to make the date work with Lisa. He really did. She’d been the last one on his list that he’d tried to reach, so it wasn’t like he had a backup plan if this flopped.

Most of the women he’d had somewhat good experiences with had moved away, or were in steady relationships. Three were single, but two of those thought he was dating Cas, and the third thought Dean was _engaged_ to him. Even after he corrected them, they’d just said they needed to go, they had things to do. Which left Lisa.

He regretted inviting her to his favorite burger joint almost immediately. Castiel always loved the food here—Dean did, too—and the ambience could be considered romantic in a cheesy sort of way, but their favorite waitress was apparently having a bad night. She was a bit rude to Lisa, but luckily his date didn’t seem to notice the cold shoulder.

“I’ll try the Whole Farm, thank you.” She turned back to Dean with a smile. “Might as well treat myself tonight. I don’t get to go out without Ben very often.”

“Oh, that’s a damn good burger. You’ll like it, Cas gets that one too and I always steal a bite. Or three.” He grinned at his own joke.

The waitress was staring at him, and so was Lisa, but neither said anything.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, so, it’s really good, but you should get onion rings so you can add a few on top. Cas always does and it makes it—”

“I don’t like onion rings,” Lisa interrupted.

“Oh.” Well, that was stupid, onion rings were awesome. Fries were better, but he liked when Cas got them and only ate the two on his burger and then they could swap plates after Dean had his fill of fried potatoes.

The waitress left them alone with a glare at Dean, which was fair, since he technically just insulted their food by saying the burger needed something added to it. He’d leave a nice tip, and make it up to her the next time he was in with Cas. He didn’t want to make Lisa think he was flirting by being too nice.

“So, um, are you still working at—” Fuck. It’d only been three years, and he’d known where she worked when they dated. She’d talked about the damn place all the time. But fuck him if he could remember it now.

“No, I teach yoga now.”

Dean perked up. He’d been worried he wouldn’t have anything to talk about with her, but this was good. Castiel did yoga, too, every morning between his second and third cup of coffee. “Oh, where at?”

“Awakening, it’s—”

“Oh, I know that one! Cas went to a Saturday workshop there...last year, in the summer. I dropped him off and drove around for a bit ‘til he was done. There’s a little coffee shop two doors down, right? We could meet there, some time?”

“It—that coffee shop closed.”

She seemed to pull back then, closing off a little. Shit, the first date wasn’t even over, and Dean was talking about creeping near her job, waiting for her to get off work. He was seriously off his game.

“So, are you still...living with Castiel?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s such a good roommate, you know? Most people get to be too much, living in small spaces, being around them all the time, but Cas is easy.”

“Mm. Yes, I remember you two got along...extremely well.”

She was probably referencing the fact that she and Cas hadn’t. Cas had never seemed to mind his one-night stands beyond irritation at being kicked out of their room, but he’d refused to get to know Lisa.

Lisa started talking about Ben’s school, then, and Dean tried to keep up with the conversation, but he didn’t know much about what kids that age were into. She finally hit on another topic Dean could contribute to when she mentioned that it was nice that Ben’s school was walking distance to both the studio and a park, so she could get her runs in after dropping him off, and before work.

“Oh, you run?”

“Yes, I started not long after...after we...after college. Do you?”

She glanced over his body, and Dean wrapped his arms around the soft spot in his midriff, even though it was already hidden by the table.

“Um, no, but Cas is always telling me I should go with him. He did a half marathon a few years ago, maybe you two could train for races together, get to know each other? And oh, I could cheer for you on race day. I made a sign last time for Cas as a surprise, and when I held it up, he—”

“I’m sorry, I’ve never seen the point of races. And I don’t really have that kind of time, with Ben.”

“Oh.”

The food came, and they both fell silent, eating their burgers. Lisa liked hers, but said she felt something was missing, and Dean almost mutinously mentioned the onion rings, but stifled it. He should’ve just ordered some himself, but then he wouldn’t have any fries, and that was _Castiel’s_ job, and—

And Lisa was talking again. Shit. Asking about what he liked to do in his spare time. Fuck, he wasn’t about to mention his Dr. Sexy and Spanish TV or Star Trek obsessions, not on the first date. What was an ‘adult’ thing to do?

“Um, well, we watch a lot of documentaries?”

Lisa looked more interested than she had in anything he’d said in a while, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table. Awesome.

“Oh? What kind do you watch?”

Shit. Not awesome. He cast about for some details, but came up blank. “Um. Well, technically, it’s usually Cas who picks them out.”

She stayed silent, waiting, so Dean nervously kept going. “I mean, I watch them, too. Sometimes. But, you know, whenever they get—” _boring_ “—really into the details, it’s nice to have a book handy, you know?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. Yeah, it was nice, curling up with a book while Cas was a warm line of heat nearby. If Cas watched two back-to-back, Dean would stretch out and shove his feet into Castiel’s lap, which was even nicer. Cas always complained, but he’d rub the kinks out of Dean’s feet anyway. And sometimes, Dean even forgot to keep reading and fell asleep instead. Not that he’d tell Lisa any of that. It’s just...he got touch-starved, sometimes, you know?

She leaned back on her side of the booth again. “What do you read, while…Cas is watching tv?”

“Um, like, a lot of stuff. Vonnegut, Harry Potter, stuff like that.”

“Any of the classics?”

He scrunched his face. Those _were_ classics. But she probably meant— “Um, no, but I know the plot lines to a lot of them. Cas had a really funny lit professor in college, and he used to come home with the craziest stories. There was this one time—”

“I’m sorry, can you hold that thought? I need to run to the ladies’ room.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Lisa was gone a long time, and when she came back, she said the babysitter had called her and she needed to go home.

“Not gonna be able to see the movie then, I guess?”

“No, I’m sorry, Ben needs me.”

“Okay. Um. It’s supposed to be a good one, maybe we could—”

“I was surprised you picked that one, to be honest. It’s...it’s a bit of a chick flick, you know, for—for _you?_ ”

He scowled. What was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t a chick flick. Ok, so he’d thought that, too, at first, but— “I’ve seen the first one already. You’re right, I wouldn’t have watched it on my own, but Cas rented it for movie night, and it was really good. We’ve been waiting for the sequel to come out since it was announced.”

She didn’t say anything else, and Dean paid the check, and drove her home. She insisted he didn’t need to walk her to the door, but he did. Which meant he saw the shocked expression on the babysitter’s face when she answered the door, and heard the _what are you doing back so early?_

“Dean—”

“It’s okay, I had a nice time, Lisa.”

“I—I did too. But, Dean, you realize, um, you should really talk to—”

He turned and headed back to his Impala with a wave. Lisa wasn’t the only one who’d lied about having a nice time. He was kind of glad in spite of himself. Whatever they’d had once—or maybe they’d never had it at all, and he’d been trying too hard to make the wrong thing into the right thing. Maybe that’s what Cas had been trying to tell him, all those years ago.

And honestly she was probably a better fit for Cas than him, looking back. The idea made him feel...uncomfortable.

He wasn’t in the mood to go home, so he hit several bars, but everyone was so young and no one really wanted to talk and it just...it wasn’t the same. He felt old, and tired.

When he got back to the apartment, Cas was sitting on the couch, watching something about bees, even though he normally would’ve been in bed hours ago. He didn’t look up when Dean passed behind the couch, but still asked him how his date had gone.

_You were right._

_Lisa and I aren’t...right._

_She didn’t order onion rings._

_I really wanted some goddamn onion rings._

“It was good. We might...we might see each other again, sometime soon.” _Yeah, sometime never._

He used up all the hot water in the shower, then went to bed.

#

Dean put himself on a schedule after that.

On Fridays, he used to either watch tv with Cas, or go over to Charlie’s house for game night. Now, he went downtown, and worked his way through the bars. He’d tried flirting with the singles where he was already a regular, but the staff kept loudly asking him why Cas wasn’t with him and glaring at his new companions until they ran for it. The last time, Jo shorted him on whiskey then forgot to bring him a beer. Twice. Maybe they never really liked him at all. Maybe they just liked Cas a whole lot, so they put up with him.

When downtown didn’t work either, he started going out on Wednesdays, too, because this dry spell needed to be over like yesterday. He didn’t really want to return to his old pattern of one night stands—he wanted the whole nine yards for once, but shit, it was a lot harder than he remembered, and his dick was starting to hate his hand over these past couple of months.

It wasn’t like Cas hadn’t offered to take his edge off—and Cas had never been the one to offer before. It’d always been Dean, knocking on Castiel’s bedroom door in the middle of the night. And Cas would open the door, and let him in, and they never talked, not on _those_ nights, but Cas always just seemed to know if Dean needed to be laid back on the bed and have his hair stroked while Cas moved inside him and told him he was _pretty_ and _so good_ and a _sweet boy_ , or if he needed to be slammed against the wall, his legs wrapped around Castiel’s waist while Cas claimed his mouth and rutted against him—and fuck.

Dean missed it. He missed him. But he needed to get his head on straight, start looking for a real long term thing the way normal adults did. And indulging in what was easy and convenient was what got him off his game so badly to start with.

Maybe he needed to try on Mondays, too.

#

Garth got to pick what the group did on his birthday, and he wanted everyone to go to the Roadhouse for karaoke—same as last year, and the year before. And those other years, it’d been a great time, but this time, it was just weird. For Dean, anyway.

Charlie was barely speaking to him, and Sam was pissy. Cas was quiet, almost too quiet, and he kept refusing to sing, which was probably a good thing, because Dean was practically a born-again-virgin at this point, and Castiel’s voice was—

Well, it’d make a straight man question himself, and Dean had known he was bi since Aaron in high school, so he didn’t have as far to go.

To be fair, Dean didn’t feel much like singing, either. He didn’t like everyone being mad at him, and he didn’t even know what he’d supposedly done this time. He was almost sulking by the time Garth started trying to fix whatever funk everyone was in.

“C’mon, Cas, I thought you liked singing,” Garth pleaded. “You’re so good at it. No, don’t just shake your head—you need some liquid courage tonight?”

Castiel eyed the shot Garth was offering. “It would take an entire liquor store to get me drunk right now. I’m not sure what you expect that little shot of tequila to accomplish.”

Charlie leaned over, her eyes glinting hard. “I know. Dean can sing. How about Aerosmith’s _Angel_ _?_ Or better yet, _Fire and Smoke_ , Earl Thomas Conley.”

Sam grinned, but it wasn’t his normal nice Sammy-grin—it was too full of teeth. “I’ll do you one better. They both sing. A duet. _Need You Now_ , Lady Antebellum.”

Dean looked between them. “Dude, what the fuck—guys, that’s not a duet, that’s a couple’s song.”

Cas grabbed the shot from Garth, tossed it back, and slammed it down on the table, waving away their friend’s offer of a lime. Was he...mad? Did he think Dean told everyone they had—used to have—sex sometimes? That wasn’t his fault—not all of it.

This shit was getting out of hand. He needed them to stop making jokes like that in front of Cas, especially if it was making Cas cranky. He had to do better, distract them from teasing Cas.

Jo headed their way with another tray of drinks, and he eyed the way she was walking. Was that an extra swish? Was that why she’d been so mad he was flirting with other women? Damn, he’d been going all over town, and he might not have had to go that far at all. He’d known Jo a long time, she was cool. He’d always thought of her as a little sister, but maybe—

“Heya, Jo. You’re looking gorgeous tonight. Are those new jeans? They fit you real—” Whoa, shit, no, fuck, back up. For a second there, he thought Jo was going to slap him.

“You’re goddamn stupid, Winchester, you know that?” She slammed the tray down and stalked off.

Charlie, a bit too tipsy and ever so helpful, snipped out another suggestion before Dean could think of anything to say. “Maybe Cas should just go sing _I Hate Myself for Loving You_.”

Cas shoved back from the table so hard his chair nearly toppled into the one behind him. “Enough.” He stalked up to the stage, people instinctively clearing a path, then cut in line with barely a word to the guy running the equipment, and grabbed the microphone as soon as the last singer was done.

“Dude, what’s eating him?” Dean tried to joke, but everyone at the table just stared at him. Suddenly uncomfortable, he swiveled on his chair to watch Cas sing.

And oh, did Cas sing. The music for _Seven Year Ache_ started pumping from the speakers, and Cas never even looked at the word prompts, his eyes boring into Dean’s soul from across the room. Dean barely blinked, barely breathed.

Cas was angry, so angry, and he sang like a storm, his body and voice mesmerizing to the point Dean almost didn’t hear the lyrics, but then...the lyrics. Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

And Cas was singing them _at_ him. Cas...did Cas view what he was doing these past few months as—

Fuck, did Cas think—

Dean’s head hurt, he’d drunk too much, and everything was rushing around, thoughts clicking into one pattern with one explanation, then shuffling into another, then another.

Fuck, he was too drunk for this. He was too—

The music ended, and nothing filled the silence except the ringing static in Dean’s ears. People should’ve clapped, because Cas had owned that song the same way he used to own Dean’s body, but for whatever reason they just quietly watched Castiel carve a path back to the table. He was still holding Dean’s eyes captive even now, silently ordering Dean to keep his ass right there in that chair until he made it back, and Dean?

Dean ran.

#

After a while Cas came outside, looking defeated and miserable. Dean almost said something silly to cheer him up before remembering he was supposed to be hiding. But in the end, it didn’t matter—Cas spotted him trying to scoot farther back into the alley.

“Dean? I—I thought you left.”

“Ellen—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ellen has my keys.”

“Oh.”

His friend came over, moving slowly as if Dean was going to run away—which would’ve been funny, if Dean hadn’t still been as drunk as he was. Maybe he could speed-walk away, like he had when he’d fled the bar.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m just peachy, Cas.”

“May I join you?”

“You’ve never needed permission before.”

Castiel squinted, and moved to drop down next to Dean before stopping himself, staring down at Dean instead, studying him. Probably reading him with that weird sixth sense he had.

“You need an engraved invitation, man?”

His roommate and sometimes-lover grabbed his upper arm, hauled him up, and shoved him against the wall, pinning his chest with a forearm.

“What the hell is your problem, Dean? You think I just wait around for you to need me? And that I’m always gonna come when you call? You just snap your fingers, and bam, there I am?”

“You always have been,” Dean muttered, trying to ignore the feeling stirring in his groin. The last time Cas had manhandled him like this, he’d wound up finishing so loud the neighbors had complained.

“I won’t be, if you’re gonna sleep with half the town like you did in college!”

“Why do you care?”

Cas glared at him. “Why do you think?”

Dean tried to turn his head away, but Cas pulled away slightly, then pressed Dean’s shoulders hard into the wall again, jostling him.

Fuck. “I—I haven’t been sleeping with half the town, Cas.”

Castiel scoffed, this time looking away himself.

“I—I mean it. I haven’t. I’m done with all the one night stands. I wasn’t—I’m not looking for that anymore.”

Blue eyes pierced him. “Then what were you looking _for?_ ”

“You,” Dean mumbled.

“What?”

“I was looking for—for you, Cas, alright? Dammit, I didn’t even realize it, but fuck, I was looking for you.”

“I was home.” Cas squinted.

Dean laughed. “I know, Cas, fuck, I’m an idiot, alright? I was looking for this long term, steady, perfect thing, and...I already had it.”

Castiel’s gaze flicked between Dean’s eyes, assessing him, and Dean could see the moment he made a decision. Cas surged forward, hard enough his teeth clacked against Dean’s. Dean opened for him to lick his way inside his mouth, his breath caught on a whimper.

When Dean’s hips bucked forward, Cas thrust his thigh up between Dean’s knees, offering him pressure and friction and God, it was everything he’d been missing. He rutted forward, as desperate and eager as a teenager, Cas keeping his upper body still and his mouth captive even as Dean’s hips writhed.

His friend, his lover—his everything—pulled back slightly, speaking against his mouth. “If you want to come, Dean, you better be able to do it just like this.”

Dean whined, too wanton and too loud, the sound echoing down the alley. Cas let him work himself against his thigh while he kissed and nibbled at his mouth, his jaw, his ear, then down his neck and across the top of his shoulder, nudging Dean’s shirts out of the way with his nose.

“Cas, please, please, I can’t, I need it, but I can’t, God, Cas—”

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’ve got you, Freckles. I’m here.”

Dean flushed hot. Cas almost never called him that, and the pet name went straight down to feed the fire already coiling in his gut. He squirmed, his head tossed back, but the pleasure-pain of being trapped in his jeans still wasn’t enough. “Cas, please!”

“Keep your voice down, Dean.”

“Please, _please_.”

Cas relented, undoing Dean’s jeans with his free hand and slipping his cock out. Dean was already soaked with pre-come, and the heat of Castiel’s palm twisting and tugging him through the mess had Dean spilling into Castiel’s hand embarrassingly fast.

“Marry me, Cas.”

Cas laughed, lifted up Dean’s t-shirt, and wiped Dean’s release on his own stomach before tucking him away. “You’re drunk, Dean.”

“No ‘m not.” He was.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Wanna be your idiot.”

Cas kissed him again, then sucked Dean’s lower lip into his mouth and bit it before letting him go. “If you still feel that way tomorrow, okay.”

“Mm, awesome. You gonna take me home now?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I think Garth needs a bit of cheering up.”

“Cas, but I’m—you wiped—and I’m—”

Cas leaned his head forward, biting and suckling the spot on his neck where Dean could feel the flush heating his skin. He was dirty, covered in his own come, and Cas wanted him to—

“You could’ve had me pleasure you at home before we came out. I offered. Now come on. You owe Garth a song.”

“Serve you right if I sing _I Just Had Sex_ ,” he threw at Cas over his shoulder, heading back towards the bar.

Cas slapped his ass hard enough to startle a yelp out of him. “I think they’re all going to know either way.”

Dean realized what he meant as soon as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind the bar. His hair was a riot, his cheeks flushed, lips bruised, shirt rumpled...and he had a dark mark on his neck, all courtesy of Cas.

“Now they’ll know you’re mine,” Cas growled in his ear.

Fuck. Yeah, he’d missed Cas being like this. And now Dean could have him like this all the time.

God, he’d been stupid. Seven years of stupid. But Dean had Castiel’s mark on his neck now and his hand in Dean’s back pocket squeezing him in that too-possessive way, and that’s what mattered.

He decided not to fix his hair.

 

###

**Seven Year Ache - Roseanne Cash**

You act like you were just born tonight  
Face down in a memory but feeling alright  
So who does your past belong to today?  
Baby, you don't say nothing when you're feeling this way 

The girls in the bars thinking, "who is this guy?"  
But they don't think nothing when they're telling you lies  
You look so careless when they're shooting that bull  
Don't you know heartaches are heroes when their pockets are full

Tell me you're trying to cure a seven-year ache  
See what else your old heart can take  
The boys say, "when is he gonna give us some room"  
The girls say, "God I hope he comes back soon"

Everybody's talking but you don't hear a thing  
You're still uptown on your downhill swing  
Boulevard's empty, why don't you come around?  
Baby, what is so great about sleeping downtown? 

Splitting your dice to be someone you're not  
You say you're looking for something you might've forgot  
Don't bother calling to say you're leaving alone  
'Cause there's a fool on every corner when you're trying to get home 

Just tell 'em you're trying to cure a seven-year ache  
See what else your old heart can take  
The boys say, "when is he gonna give us some room"  
The girls say, "God I hope he comes back soon" 

Tell me you're trying to cure a seven-year ache  
See what else your old heart can take  
The boys say, "when is he gonna give us some room"  
The girls say, "God I hope he comes back soon"

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr under the same username [Adaille](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/adaille).
> 
> As always, any timestamps will be posted as separate works in a series so I can tag kinks/warnings accurately, so if you want to make sure you see them, you can subscribe to my account.
> 
> If you liked this fic, you might also like my other fic in which Dean is a bit clueless: [Aubergine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000188).


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